


12 Days of Ficmas 2016: Family Gatherings

by PoppyAlexander



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Christmas Eve, Domestic Fluff, Family Feels, Fish & Chips, Greg's Kids Are Sweet, M/M, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-28
Updated: 2017-12-28
Packaged: 2019-02-22 20:40:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13174797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PoppyAlexander/pseuds/PoppyAlexander
Summary: Greg has his kids for Christmas Eve; John gets a heartwarming surprise.





	12 Days of Ficmas 2016: Family Gatherings

“Aw’right, fellas,” Greg said, tipping his chin to indicate space should be made on the living room table for the tray he was carrying. “Try not to gnaw each other’s hands off going at these.” The tray was nearly the same size as the tabletop, and was lined with newsprint and covered with mounds of golden chips, crispy-looking fish fingers, little pots of sauces, and a bottle of vinegar.

“That is a thing of absolute beauty,” John gushed, smiling up at him from his seat on the sofa. Nine-year-old Jane knelt up from where she’d been stretched out on her side on the rug, flipping through a big, glossy book about fashion, and pinched a chip between thumb and forefinger. Her brother Michael, thirteen, shifted forward from his slump in Greg’s favoured armchair and dug in with one hand while the other kept a death grip on his mobile phone.

Greg fetched folded paper serviettes from the back pocket of his jeans and set them on the table beside the tray. “What’s your mum having tomorrow for Christmas dinner?” Greg asked the kids as he sank onto the sofa beside John, who absentmindedly stroked Greg’s knee before reaching for a bit of fish.

“Dunno,” Michael replied around his mouthful. “The regular things.”

“Big crowd?”  John asked.

“Just Gran and Auntie Violet and Uncle Richard,” Jane told him. “They have dogs instead of kids but mum won’t let them bring them. Three little white fluffy ones; Auntie Violet puts sweaters on them.”

“It’s so boring,” Michael moaned, rolling his eyes skyward at such a fate as his. “When you used to invite all those coppers over, at least someone would get drunk and do something funny.”

Greg explained, “We used to host an orphans’ dinner for the single ones at the Met.”

John gave him a warm look. “That was kind of you.” Greg shrugged. John leaned against him, a gentle version of a punch on the arm.

“I prefer a peaceful day of nothing-much, these days, I’ll admit,” Greg said. “Have a lie-in, eat puddings at all hours, maybe read a bit.” He addressed the kids. “I’ll miss you lot, of course, but your old dad doesn’t get a lot of time off to be a layabout.”

“Can we stay tonight, Daddy?” Jane asked then, dragging a chip in a swirl through a little bowl full of brown sauce.

“I think Father Christmas is bringing the presents to your mum’s, though,” Greg frowned at her.

“I don’t mind. He’ll bring some here, as well. We’ve got the socks hung.” She pointed at the four stockings—three red, one purple satin with rhinestone embellishments—hung from a bookcase shelf with pushpins.

John gave Greg’s knee another squeeze, and when Greg shot him an inquiring look, he gave a small, encouraging nod.

“What do you say, Mick?” Greg asked.

Michael, once again sunk back into the chair and scrolling his phone, said, “Sure, yeah. Can I buy a movie, though?”

“Which movie?”

Michael named a family-friendly film and Greg looked at him skeptically, which elicited a laugh from John, though he quickly schooled himself so as not to appear to be taking Greg’s son’s side against him.

“All right, nevermind,” Michael grumbled. “I’ll just carry on being the only one at my school who hasn’t yet seen  _Death List Five_.”

Greg pulled a face, but John piped up, “Is that the Korean one about the hitman—the strangler?”

“ _Eyes_  pop out,” Michael said, by way of reply, and he sounded rather more night-before-Christmas about it than he had sounded all day about it actually being the night before Christmas.

Jane shuddered. “Eeww! Don’t talk about it!”

“Yes, let’s don’t,” Greg agreed. “John, you’re no help.”

“Yeah. No. Sorry. Have you seen the trailer, though? It looks quite cool.”

“Thanks, I’d love a cider,” Greg falsely enthused, and John laughed, but got up to fetch them each a bottle from the kitchen. “Janey, go call Mum and ask her if it’s all right. It’s fine with me, but if she says no, that’s the answer.”

“Is John staying, too?” she asked.

“Ah…”

“We could have family movie night, if he does.”

John, returning from the kitchen with two open bottles of cider, stopped short mid-stride.

“Please will you stay?” Jane asked him, bounding up from the rug and throwing her arms around his waist. He raised his arms awkwardly, looking under one elbow at her clinging to his side. “It’s more like a family that way, a proper Christmas Eve.”

John’s eyes had gone quite wide.

“Listen, sweetheart,” Greg started.

“Yeah, of course I’ll stay,” John said, and rearranged the bottles into one hand so he could put an arm around Jane’s shoulders for a moment. “Family movie night sounds like an excellent idea.”

“I’ll go call Mum!” Off she ran.

John shook his head and Greg could see him swallow hard, looking at the ceiling and blinking. He passed Greg a bottle and resumed his seat, took a quick swipe at his face with the flats of his fingers. Greg put an arm around him and kissed him low on the cheek, near the curve of his jaw.

“Children are present,” Michael protested dully without looking up.

“I’ve told you before I’ll kiss who I like in my own house,” Greg said, grinning. To John he said, “Here, c’mere,” and slid an arm around his back, while the other hand turned John’s face toward his.

“I’m out of here,” Michael grumbled and rolled out of the chair, vanishing down the hallway to his bedroom.

Greg and John shared a few affectionate kisses and John murmured, “Feels more like a family, she said.”

“She’s right.”


End file.
